


The Office Bicycle

by Moonshine_Givens



Category: Justified
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Foot Fetish, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, light foot fetish in Rachel's chapter, pre-slash in Art's chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 23:05:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonshine_Givens/pseuds/Moonshine_Givens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raylan is nothing but a giver.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tim

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadowolfhunter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowolfhunter/gifts).



> This work comes for you guys as the lovelies ilovealistair and shadowolfhunter both gave me prompts for Raylan with Art and Tim. As you all must know, my One True Pairing is Raylan x Boyd, so I was having some difficult seeing Raylan in both relationships. So I decided: "Hey, why not a very slutty Raylan?" and that's what we have here. Each chapter shows Raylan with one of his co-workers and can be read alone. Hope you like it!

Tim was going to kill Raylan. He was a sniper, he couldn’t carry a tune but he knew how to shoot assholes.

“So I’ll need both reports on Monday, Gutterson, first thing or I’ll gonna make Rachel kick your sorry ass.”

“The… the report’s done, boss.”

Raylan chose that moment to lick clean the ice cream pooling in Tim’s belly button, his hand going in a slow pace up and down Tim’s hard cock. Tim would hit him hard if he had any free hands, but both of his upper limbs were restrained against the fucking headboard by Givens’ tie. Asshole.

(Tim is now asking himself why the hell did he agree with such an obvious bad idea. He has a feeling it has something to do with the half empty bottle of Jim Beam lying on the floor right beside them.)

His cock didn’t have any ice cream on it since, according to Raylan, it wouldn’t be good to have Little Tim cold. It was probably the only place in his body that wasn’t sticky and smelling like vanilla.

“Tim, that’s the wrong answer. I know last weeks’ report is done, ‘cause not even you can be that slow…”

“Yeah…” was Tim’s broken answer, no idea what Art was talking about, only aware that Raylan’s tongue was travelling further south, licking with renewed enthusiasm, and there’s no way there is this much ice cream on his happy trail.

The fucker currently torturing him from below thought it would be a hilarious idea to put Tim’s phone on speaker voice and answer Chief Art Mullen’s call without freeing Tim’s hands. Or, you know, stopping the afternoon activities at all, and if that’s not enough reason to justify a killing, Tim is not sure what is.

“…what I’m saying is that I can’t wait a month every time I need a report done, this is not how things work in the Marshals, and I shouldn’t have to call you on a Saturday to tell you that, goddammit, you’re a grown man and I’m not your fucking nanny!”

Tim’s quite aware Art’s is waiting for an answer on the other side of the call, but as he opens his mouth to talk, he’s way more aware that Raylan’s mouth is closing over the head of his cock, tongue still swirling as if he’s trying to melt a popsicle. Gutterson takes deep breathes through his open mouth, but the best he can manage is another “Yeah?”

He hears Art sighing deeply, a huge red alert of the man’s moods.

“Will the report be ready by Monday, Gutterson?”

It wasn’t a question, it was a curse disguised as polite speech, and yet another cue for Tim.

“It’ll be done, it’ll be done, I swear!” Tim answers fast, breath uneven, praying Art is not a man of imagination.

Raylan licks the underside of is cock and Tim bites his own tongue, because he _can’t. fucking. moan._

“Good, good, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Now Tim, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. Do you think I should be worried about Raylan?”

Jesus Christ, how can he answer that? He looks down at Raylan, and the man just winks at him, a half smile on his lips even as he lowers himself further on Tim’s cock.

Gutterson answers the first thing that comes to mind.

“Well, the man is an asshole. Uh… sir.”

“Yeah, sure, we know that.” comes Art reply. “I’m just kind of worried about this whole thing with Boyd Crowder…”

“You mean his criminal boyfriend?”

That was such a stupid move on Tim’s part, because of course Raylan would retaliate by swallowing him whole fast, hollowing his cheeks and sucking harder than ever.

Of course.

Tim bucks hard, barely keeping himself from chocking the bastard, a low grunt escaping his lips as he pulls at his restrains. There’s no way Art didn’t hear that, but the man just carries on, voice muffling Tim’s sounds:

“Yeah, we know _that_ as well. Just, I’m not sure how many times Raylan can play knight in shining armor to Boyd’s distress without shit hitting the fan.”

“Not mu-ch we can do-o… boss.”

Raylan’s free hand – the one that wasn’t pressing down on Tim’s hip and digging his nails on the flesh – started to reach lower, fingers slowly circling Tim’s hole. The only thing Gutterson could do was mouth “Don’t you dare!” at Raylan’s satisfied face, hoping the man wasn’t that much of a sadist. But as Tim felt pressure and then the slow invasion of a slender finger, he knew all hope was vain.

“I know that, I know.” Art makes a pause, and Raylan wriggles his finger around, already past the first knuckle. “I keep trying to look out for the idiot anyway; I like to think I’m a sort of parental figure to him.”

A lot of things happened at the same time then: Raylan’s finger finally managed to stretch Tim’s entrance enough to bury itself deep; Raylan swallowed Tim’s cock deep enough to hit the back of his throat; and Tim released a moan loud and obscene enough there was no possible way it could be mistaken by anything else.

For a while everything went still, and even Raylan stopped, his mouth still wrapped around Tim’s dick as his comical wide eyes tried to take in what just happened.

There was silence on the other end of the line. Then, after a moment, Art’s voice:

“You know, speaking of parental figures, maybe now is a good time for us to talk about your dad…”

Tim could already hear Art snickering, but it was Raylan’s laugh that made him aware of the fact that he works with complete assholes.

“I fucking hate both of you.”

“Oh, c’mon Tim, you’re getting a blowjob, things can’t be as bad.” Art said, laughing freely now. “You enjoy yourself this weekend, Raylan.”

“Will do, Art.” was Raylan’s answer as he smiled against Tim’s thigh. “Will do.”


	2. Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> to ilovealistair, hope you like it!

“I could always suck you off.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Suck you. It would lift your spirit; maybe even lift something else…”

Art had being grumbling and complaining the whole day. Actually, scratch that – he had being downright miserable the whole week, talking about his job as some people would talk about receiving the death penalty. Apparently having a gang of misfits as US Marshals was finally getting on the man’s nerves.

“Raylan, I’m sorry, I must have misunderstood you, for a moment there I actually thought I heard you offering your boss sexual favors just to get rid of your paper work.”

“Well, that would be a bonus.” Raylan said, shameless. “C’mon, Art, you used to like my blowjobs, if I remember our time in Glynco alright.”

“If you remember our time in Glynco alright, Raylan, I wasn’t your boss back then.”

“Yeah… so, do you wanna do this or…?”

“No, Raylan!”

“Alright.”

Silence, and Raylan gets back to reading his file in the almost dark office. He can feel Art’s eyes on him.

“Fuck, what do you want, Raylan?”

“My goodness, Art, a man can’t offer an innocent blowjob without having something on his mind?”

Art looks at him with his most suspicious stare, chin raised and eyes squeezed. “Is this a pity fuck?”

“Who said anything about fuckin’?”

“Raylan…”

“No, it’s not a pity oral. You look like you havin’ a bad week and you could have a good time, and I’m bored as hell and I could have a good time. So I thought we could have a good time together, ain’t nothing else.”

“Yeah, well, I’m used to bad weeks. That’s what I get being your boss.”

“C’mon now, I’m on my best behavior lately.”

“…I’m worried about Rachel.”

“Yes, I know.”

“You know?”

“We all know. You’re an idiot.”

“Raylan, what the hell…”

“Art, before you start with the threats and the screams, tell me why are you so damn worried ‘bout Rachel.”

Art mumbled something that sounded like “You’re not a shrink.”, but answered anyway: “I’m worried because I don’t know what to expect from her now. She’s my best marshal…”

“I’m still here…”

“…and I always trusted her, but now she’s going through a divorce and every time she goes out on a case there’s blood and violence all over the report. And I don’t know what to do.”

“’Cause you’re an idiot.”

“Raylan, I fucking swear…”

“Rachel is not going through a divorce, she had a fight with her husband, they parted ways, and now she’s divorced. That is not a process that she’s still going through, that’s something that happened and that now is over. And your worrying needs to be over as well, because if there’s something messing with Rachel’s head is the way you keep watching her every move.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jee, I don’t know Art. How about the fact you go over to her desk every fifteen minutes to ask her if she’s doing okay? Or the fact you made Tim babysit her for a whole month after the divorce?”

“I’ve learned from my mistakes.”

“Clearly you haven’t. She can feel you’re worried and she thinks you’re not trusting her, and let’s be honest here, you’re not. So she’s trying hard to prove you she still has her head in the game, and to prove you that, she has to bring the fugitive whatever it takes. Hence the blood bath in her latest cases.”

Art sighs deeply, looking at Rachel’s empty table.

“What should I do, then?”

“You should back off. She’s not some housewife who’s lost without her man to point her in the right direction, she’s a US Marshal, a damn good one in fact. So relax. Let her do her work. Let me suck you off.”

Art glares at him, but Raylan can see the humor on his eyes.

“I might follow one or two of your advices, Raylan.” Which one wasn’t clear, but at Art’s wink, Raylan knew that was the best he could do for the man right now, and the important thing, he sounded amused enough.

“Good night, Art.” Raylan says, folding up his report.


	3. Rachel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one has a minor spoiler for "The Walking Dead" season finale. It's nothing very clear but if you watch this show and haven't watched the finale, maybe... hm... be aware, okay?

“I can’t fucking believe she’s that slow, oh my God!”

That was Raylan’s greeting as he pushed open Rachel’s front door – he was expected, and with both their guns resting on the coffee table right beside the couch they were sharing, there wasn’t much Tim or Rachel would fear to keep the door locked. As the last one in their little party, Raylan made sure he locked the door, though.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, oh God, he’s getting up, shut up, shut up…”

“You’re the one talking!” Tim screamed, but he was laughing as he tried to put his hand over Rachel’s mouth.

They were… well, there was no other word for it, cuddling on the couch, Rachel’s upper body lying over Tim’s. They were both wearing pajamas pants and old t-shirts, a huge bowl of M&Ms between them and an ice cream pint for each. Behind them were a couple of pillows, an abandoned blanket between their bodies. Just looking at the way they were sitting all over each other was enough for Raylan to know they were watching some kind of horror movie, and were both very invested on it.

“So no one waited for me?”

Both of them jumped at Raylan’s voice, Tim almost dropping his ice cream all over the blanket.

“Goddammit, Raylan, I thought it was a walker.”

For some reason that line made Rachel giggle like a maniac, M&Ms flying everywhere.

“What the hell are you doing, anyway?”

“Single girls’ sleepover. Your ice cream’s on the fridge.” Rachel answered with a smile, stopping the movie, whatever it was – Raylan was quite sure he caught a sight of a zombie.

He walked down towards the fridge, getting rid of his hat on the way, discovering Rachel’s home currently only had beer and ice cream. He realized that, at this time of the night, bourbon would possibly be his preferred choice, but his friends were apparently reverting back to their elementary school social behaviors. As good as a drink would do him today, it was worth to see Tim having fun after six while being stone cold sober. He could do with single girls’ sleepover.

And, all in all, someone remembered to buy him vanilla ice cream, so it wasn’t bad.

“C’mon Ray-ray, we ain’t got all night!” Tim called.

“What are we watching?” Raylan asked, sitting down on his end of the couch, Rachel immediately resting her feet on his legs, more M&Ms flying to the floor.

“Dude, ‘The Walking Dead’. Season finale. If you’ve seen it already, shut up.” She kicked him lightly on the thigh, and it was such a natural move for him, to trap her feet between his bigger hands.

“The Walking what now?”

“Oh my God, Givens, don’t tell me you never saw ‘The Walking Dead’.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t even heard of it!”

Raylan turned to look at both their chocked faces, Tim’s face smeared with way more chocolate ice cream than the acceptable for an adult man.

“It’s… about zombies?”

Rachel turned her head back in Tim’s shoulder, laughing with her whole body, her skin glowing in the blue TV light.

“Our own Rick Grimes never watched ‘The Walking Dead’, Tim, can you believe it?”

“Yeah, yeah, can we go back to it?” Raylan answered, pretending to be annoyed. “Is not like it’ll be too hard to follow a zombie movie.”

“No, no, no. Not before you tell us how is your good friend Boyd.” Rachel’s smile was a mile long, and her cold feet were getting warmer under Raylan’s fingers.

“He’s not my friend.” was Raylan’s quiet answer, until his mind caught up why were Tim and Rachel looking even more satisfied. “Wait, how did you know I was in Harlan?”

“Oh, please, Raylan, you told us three hours ago you were on your way. Unless you came walking from home, you were in Harlan.”

“Besides, where else would you be?” Tim asked, stuffing his mouth with M&Ms in a way that didn’t make him attractive in the least.

“Maybe I didn’t talk to Boyd.”

Rachel’s only answer to that was throwing M&Ms at Raylan’s head.

“Okay, fuck, yeah, he’s the same asshole he always was. Or the same asshole he decided to be in the last twenty years. A bit drunker, a bit bitterer, but already plottin’ against the US Government and against the law and order. Ain’t nothing we can do ‘bout that. And he wasn’t happy to see me, that much I can tell.”

They were silent still, both waiting for something else. Raylan had nothing to offer, nothing that wasn’t dark and rotten enough to taint their happy night, nothing that didn’t brought Harlan’s dirt to Rachel’s living room. So Raylan finished with a quiet “He’s gonna be alright.” that he wasn’t sure he believed himself.

“Besides, I did stop home before comin’ here. Figured I should take a shower and brush my teeth before lying down on Miss Brooks’ bed.”

“Oh, he comes with vile intentions.” Her tone was warning, but she didn’t move her legs as his fingers dipped under the pants towards her ankle, his thumb applying pressure on her skin.

“This is a sleepover, after all.”

They went back to the movie after that, and clearly zombie movies were much more complex than Raylan remembered: there was a lot of shooting happening, but none of it was actually directed towards the zombies. And there were eye patches. And kids with guns.

Raylan resigned himself to not understanding what the hell was going on in the show, spending the minutes enjoying Rachel’s proximity instead. She smelled like soap and fabric softener, fresh and sweet and comfortable. She had this amazing quality that Raylan could never find in any girl from Kentucky, specially not in girls from Harlan: when she smiled, she looked almost too young, full of happiness and childish joy that reached her eyes. It was such a change from her usual though manners it made Raylan almost dizzy with it.

He could feel her clean skin under his fingertips, shivers rising over the tension in the episode or maybe over Raylan’s slowly trailing fingers. Her toenails were painted in a dark red, and it was such a feminine small thing it got Raylan’s heart racing. He could almost close his fingers over one of her ankles.

Finally the episode was coming to an end, and apparently the death of that chick was reason enough to get both of his co-workers screaming at the screen in mad rage. It was unclear to Raylan if they wanted her dead or alive. He guessed it was unclear to them as well.

“I’m going to bed, then.” Tim said, kissing the top of Rachel’s head and getting up.

“C’mon, war boy, I thought you were tougher than that.” Rachel teased, without much energy.

“Yeah, well, I’m–” Tim faked a big yawn, but none of them called him on it. “I’m so tired. I have to go to bed and cry myself to sleep over this fucking finale. You guys stay and… watch something else.”

“Good night, Tim.” was Raylan’s only answer at Tim’s escape to the bedroom.

The room was quiet for a while as Rachel kept trying to find something suitable for them to watch and Raylan ate his ice cream. She had the time of three full ice cream’s spoons to change the course of the night before he made his move.

At the first spoon, she kept ignoring him, eyes glued at the TV.

At the second spoon, she didn’t turn around, but the corner of her mouth was slowly lifting, and her eyes were glowing with humor.

At the third, she moved her foot just a bit, resting it lightly on his inner thigh.

Raylan set the now empty pint of ice cream on the floor beside him, getting back to rest both of his hands on Rachel’s legs. He made a show of massaging her feet for a while, adding more and more pressure until she finally turned all the way around in the couch, resting her head in the pillows and letting the TV on some infomercial channel.

“This feels good?” he asked in a low tone, smiling up at her.

“Yeah… running around all day in high heels always hurts my feet.”

“Mm-hm…” he raised her feet until he could brush his lips over it, hands travelling down her leg. “Bet your legs hurt as well.”

“Some days, yeah…” she wasn’t hiding her smile any longer, stretching like a cat under Raylan’s fingers.

Her right leg rested on his thighs, but her left leg was over his shoulder now, while he leaned down, massaging her thigh, thumbs pressing down on the thin fabric of her pants to reach the warmth of her skin. His movements kept moving higher and higher on her body, fingers brushing her inner thigh, waiting, teasing. When she moved just that little bit – hips reaching up towards his hands so prettily – he changed the leg he was working on, starting it all over her right knee. She giggled at his antics, not frustrated in the least, but comfortable, boneless lying down and enjoying her massage. Raylan rubbed at her skin and held her between his fingers without rushing anything, lazy and content.

Finally he was moving up in her body again, kneeling between her legs, her t-shirt ridding up in her stomach, hip bones visible with her every intake of breath. He rested his hands there, kissing and licking over her belly button – he had a thing for belly buttons, girls and boys alike, it was half the fun of giving oral.

His hands found her pants again, now traveling back down. As he started pulling her pants down, he felt her hands finally touching him, fingers closing on his hair, pulling his head up in a kiss that Rachel dominated entirely.

“I hate that hair.” She whispered against his mouth, kicking off herself the pants.

“Tim likes it.”

“What about Boyd?”

Raylan laughed against her neck, hands squeezing her ass – the only punishment he would ever risk with Deputy US Marshal Rachel Brooks. “Who’s do ya think this idea was? ‘Raylan, remember when you used to wear your hair longer, boy, back when your momma was alive…’ Couldn’t make him shut up about it.” His impression of Boyd wasn’t as good as Boyd’s impression of him, but it would do.

“Never mind the drugs, Raylan, I’m gonna arrest his ass over his terrible taste.” Rachel laughed as well, but stopped talking when Raylan sucked behind her ear, his right hand finding her breast. He kept his movements slow, warmth spreading over their skin – even though everyone in the house new exactly what was happening on the couch right now, it was still a matter of manners to keep it down for Tim’s sake. Besides, as Raylan buried his nose in Rachel’s neck, taking in the smell of her skin, he felt as if he could lie there forever, eating chocolate out of her small fingers, chasing the taste of strawberry ice cream in her lips. It felt like reading on a rainy day, or a warm cup of strong coffee before sunrise, or falling asleep in soft pillows: it was arousing on its own easy way. He felt her light laugh against his skin, and he knew that Rachel wasn’t laughing of him, but just expressing how content she was.

It felt good, simply good.

When she tried to reach for his hard on, he wordlessly stopped the journey of her hand, kissing her fingers and licking her palm. Instead, he went back down in her body, moving from her still covered chest to her naked legs. She wasn’t wearing any of the racy underwear he knew she had, but plain grey cotton panties, comfortable and bigger than anything he ever saw on her. It didn’t felt less sexy, though, it felt natural, like it would be impossible that she would be wearing anything else under those pajamas pants.

He touched her clit from over the fabric, rubbing her with slow movements, knowing it would get her wet but not off just yet. When she moved one of her hands to her mouth and started biting on it, legs pulling at Raylan’s body, bringing him closer, he knew she was close to moan out loud, so he backed off for a second, pulling her legs over his shoulder and kissing one of her toes. When it felt like her breathing was back at almost normal, he started to pull down her panties, her raised hips helping all the way.

Once the panties were gone as well, he went back down, kissing slowly over her inner thigh. He wanted to bite her, suck a love bite against her skin, but it wasn’t his place to mark her nor would it help keeping the silence between them. Some other time, maybe.

He started licking at her clit, tasting her wetness with the tip of his tongue. Finally, done with playing, he positioned his hands under her ass, lifting her even more, ready to…

“I’m not looking, I’m not looking, I’m not looking!”

Tim was crossing the living on his tip toes, a ridiculous hand over his eyes, hair fucked up beyond words, face still messy with chocolate. He got into the bathroom on the other side of the room and locked himself, not before tripping on the couch his friends were (trying) to have sex in.

Raylan lifted his eyes to Rachel’s face, then back at her pussy, and back at her face. He was pretty sure his tongue was still hanging out of his mouth, what made the whole situation even more pathetic.

“Oh my God, Tim!” Rachel screamed, covering her eyes with her upper arm, body shacking under Raylan with her laugh. “What the hell, asshole?”

“I had to pee! Couldn’t hold it anymore!” Tim yelled from behind the locked door, and the apartment was small enough that they could listen to him doing just that.

Raylan set Rachel’s legs down, covering her lower body with the blanket that ended up on the floor. She was still laughing, both hands hiding her face now, and once again Raylan felt happy just to be in that couch with her.

“So, is being a single girl everything you thought it would be?” Raylan asked her in a low voice.

“You know what? No, it isn’t.” she sighed deeply, trying to control her own laugh, hands falling down and uncovering her pretty face. “It’s way more fun.” And there it was, that big smile that made her look like a young girl.

“Is it safe to come out?” Tim asked, sounding shameless.

“Yeah!”

He came back to the living room still tip toeing, the floor too cold for someone that was lying on a warm bed. He didn’t went straight back to said bedroom, though, but stopped beside the couch, one hand resting over the back, staring intensely over Raylan and Rachel, where Raylan was still sitting with her (now covered) legs in his lap. Tim’s expression was as serious as ever.

“Are you going to eat those M&Ms?”

Rachel almost fell off the couch this time, her laugh filling the whole room.

**Author's Note:**

> So, how do you like it, gunslingers? You wanna talk to me, I'm, as usual, at ohthati.tumblr.com . Now you can also find me at wedugcoal.tumblr.com - a blog just about Boyd x Raylan!!! Thank you for reading!


End file.
